"As long as I'm laughing you don't need to worry. If I stop laughing you'll have to come rescue me," I warn.
Today, Mom was so disoriented, so mindless, so without purpose or thought that I was being driven totally crazy. It's not too difficult for me to reach that state these days. I feel like that Edvard Munch painting, The Scream. I am a short fuse on a Roman Candle. I recognize that and try really hard to stay away from situations that will set me off. But how does one do that when one is caring for an Alzheimer's patient?
As soon as my mother awakened I knew that there was no thought process. I could tell by the way she greeted me with a certain formality, a certain lack of recognition that told me she was somewhere else; that and the fact that her panties were in her walker and she tried to put her legs through the sleeves of her blouse. At breakfast she ate mindlessly and then stood up, grabbed her walker and went outside to the screened porch. Normally she joins us in the family room to watch the morning news so this was a departure from her daily schedule. I watched from the family room and saw that she was staring off in the distance. I walked out and turned on the overhead fan to cool off the porch. Within a minute she was back up and inside.
"What's the matter? Is it too hot outside?" I asked.
"No," she replied.
"You weren't outside very long," I commented.
"Oh. I just wanted to see what was going on outside," she explained.
"Well was there something going on?"
"Oh yes. There was lots of activity; people going in and out, stopping to talk."
"Hmm, I don't see anyone."
She looked out the window and went back outside. Five minutes later she was inside, walked to the front door and circled back to the porch. The whole day has been like that.
I gave her paper and colored pencils asking her to draw something for me as a way of diverting her attention or engaging her in an activity; but all she did was scribble back and forth on the paper. I asked what she was drawing and she told me, "Nothing. I'll let you know when I decide." I could hear in her tone that she was bothered by my interruption. Okay then...fine. I walked away and did the dishes. She was back up and sitting at the kitchen island. Back and forth all day, she followed this routine until I finally asked her what she wanted. She answered, "I'm just sitting because there's nothing else to do."
Aha! There it was. I was a bad daughter. I was not filling her days with things to do and she was horribly bored. I felt awful. I sat down and asked what she would like to do. She didn't know. In fact, she told me she didn't want to do anything. I pushed on by offering several activities. No. Nope. Nunuh. Not interested. So I just finally walked away feeling frustrated and vowing I would ignore her wandering. At one point I closed the door to the porch a little too hard and Mom couldn't get back in. My husband Skip walked over to open the door and shot me an accusing look like I had intentionally kept her from coming inside. I protested loudly. Not my fault! (Or was there some unconscious desire to lock her out?)
The afternoon was even worse with the quick trips to the porch, the chair in front of TV, the kitchen, the front door and back to the porch within five minutes. I began counting. She walked outside 25 times between 1:30 and 3:00. I was ready to explode when I began calling sympathetic friends. "Listen," I told them. "I need you to talk me down before I...I...self-combust." Then I recounted my day so far. As I spoke it was apparent that it was funnier in the telling than in the experiencing. As I talked I peppered my descriptions with ample sympathetic expressions. "Bless her heart," I exclaimed. (Now I know that I have become a true Southerner!) However, What really got me through the day was a promise of something that called to me from the liquor cabinet. A bottle of Vodka had my name on it. Oh hurry, hurry Mom's bedtime. Would 8:00 never come?! I licked my lips with anticipation. In reality I knew that I would probably forgo the drink when the time arrived for me to relax after putting her to bed. I talk a big story but am a 'light weight' when it comes to drinking. I don't want to become an alcoholic (or maybe I do. I'm not quite sure yet because 8:00 hasn't yet arrived.)
I was prepared to be angry until Mom's bedtime but suddenly Mom 'woke up' from her oblivion. She was watching a travel log and I asked her a question about a bird they showed. She sat forward and commented that it was beautiful. Suddenly she was listening to the narrative. The program moved to Norway and she turned to me saying, "Look! The Fjords are so beautiful." And, "Oh my. It looks so cold." She told me about a certain city, Bergen, Norway and said it was a big city. She was paying attention in a way that she had not in weeks. What? HUH? This is the kind of stuff that keeps me laughing, upended, and well, frankly a little insane. Along with the litany of other complaints about care giving I can now add that it can lead to insanity or maybe just alcoholism. As I write this now, I grit my teeth and repeat my mantra, "Bless her heart and pass the vodka."
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